


Dressed In Joules

by Paua



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Egg Laying, Electricity, Fertility Issues, First Time, Happy Sex, Hotel Sex, Index Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Mpreg, Outlet Katsuki Yuuri, Power Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Premarital Sex, Voltage Verse, voltageverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paua/pseuds/Paua
Summary: Victor's found the light to guide him to his soulmate, but they'll need to sort out their wiring before sparks can fly.Set during the Sochi GPF. Voltage-verse AU where parts of your body glow when you're near your soulmate.





	1. A Forefinger Conclusion

**Author's Note:**

> Tagged for future chapters. Please come with me.

Amazement coursed through his body, eyes fixed forward, hands trembling; qualifying for the Grand Prix Final was something Victor Nikiforov had done many times before. He was an accomplished skater, the best there was, and he made it there through years of tenacious practice and diligent work. Being successful in his sport was normal, deserved, not something to be excited over. Qualifying for this wasn’t what electrified him that night.

“Vitya? Are you ready?” Yakov had come to collect him and accompany him to dinner. They'd recently arrived in Sochi and once checked in at the hotel, Victor immediately took to his room for a change of clothes. Hearing Yakov’s voice, he hurriedly slipped his hand back into his glove before turning to meet his coach’s permanently grumpy expression.

“Mm, I’m actually feeling tired suddenly. Go on without me, I’ll order in.” Yakov raised an eyebrow.

“You were fine not 30 seconds ago. What’s gotten into you? Are you sneaking off somewhere?”

Victor shook his head and waved his hands in dismissal. “You’re so distrusting,” he whined. “I’m just going to rest.” Yakov glared at him suspiciously, but said nothing more and backed out of the hotel room, closing the door behind him angrily.

Alone again, Victor sat on his bed, still clad in his heavy coat and winter scarf. He hadn’t gotten further than removing his gloves before. He felt lightheaded, his hands still shook, but he slowly forced himself to remove them once more, and again, he saw it. It was real.

His fingertip was glowing, faintly.

He breathed in sharply. It was an unusual feeling for him--for once not knowing how to handle something, being caught so off guard. Of course he knew what it meant, everyone did.

“My…” He couldn’t help but smile a little in his shock. This was a bioluminescent electrical reaction signaling that his promised soul was near.

He would hear stories about it growing up, on the news or in books designed to give gullible children unrealistic expectations about life.

He remembered his favorite childhood tale, the story of a left-handed French painter who struggled his whole life to support himself with his art. One day he decided to paint outside by a river, and saw a woman of overwhelming beauty on the other side--her every movement full of grace, every step like a dance. Struck with inspiration, he lifted a brush to his canvas and noticed a twinkling light through his paint-smudged fingertip. Knowing he had found his soul’s promised love, he returned to the spot each day, knowing she would be there. Eventually she came to him, having noticed his work, and offered to pay him more money for the painting than he’d ever been offered before. But the man refused, as the painting was already hers he said--for he had seen her beauty through eyes that could look nowhere else, painted by hands that created for no one other, witnessed it brought to life by a soul her own.

He had always been drawn to the romantic stories, but those were mostly just that: stories. The reality was usually more grim, where some mogul, reality star or eccentric billionaire would hold contests and searches to try to find their promised souls through crude means more for fame than for love. Not much more was spoken about the mechanics of it typically.

With so many people in the world, this was too rare an occurrence to actually plan for.

He pulled out his cell and and hovered his finger over the camera app, hesitating to press, unsure if the strange magic at work would damage his phone. He safely tapped it open with his pinky instead, and after awkwardly fumbling with the phone to avoid contact with his left index finger, managed to take a clear picture of his hand, still glowing--softly but enough to see clearly.

After a moment, Victor put his phone down and slumped over in thought. He couldn’t just post a picture of this on Instagram. Drawing undue attention to the situation could be potentially disastrous, he deemed. It wouldn’t be fair to the other competitors to create a spectacle out of himself, and it wouldn’t be right to announce it to the world in the event the one he was meant for was shy--but he needed to find them, he couldn’t just leave without knowing.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure exactly how this was supposed to work. How close to him did this indicate the other person had been? Some curious online searches resulted in mostly clickbait articles and some technically-worded studies outlining the importance of monitoring currents during ovulation, and “Index-Only” visual guides for using a multimeter on your partner--these things were too complex for him to comprehend at the moment.

What he did know is that which he could see and feel himself. The glow was much less noticeable now, and seemed to be dwindling. Although he hadn’t seen the light until he took off his glove earlier, he remembered feeling an unusual surge of energy run through his body while they were waiting in the lobby during check in. The only people he recalled around him in the room were hotel staff, Yakov, and other skaters with their coaches arriving at the same time. There was only one course of action logical to undertake, and that was to systematically approach these people and try to find his promised soul.

A chance like this needed to be taken seriously. Countless lived and died never knowing their true mate, and to come so close and pass them by like a fleeting breeze through the trees… he couldn’t allow that. Victor never did anything halfheartedly--he was going to be thorough.

He hurried down to the front desk, coat folded in his arm over his left hand. It needed to be bare to check to see if the glow intensified, and he used the garment as cover so no one would notice.

Victor approached the front desk attendant, a small brunette with glasses--easily attractive, but very methodically put together--not a hair out of place.

“Hello, Mr. Nikiforov.” She greeted him in a friendly but clearly required manor. “What can I do for you?”

Victor looked under his coat. No change--he didn’t feel it there, either.

“I was hoping I could get some extra towels for my room,” he lied.

“Yes, certainly, I’ll go get those for you now--” Victor cut her off as she turned to leave into a closed room behind the desk area.  
  
“No! No. Please have someone bring them up to me. One of the bellboys who was in here earlier. At least one of them.” He found himself uncharacteristically flustered, despite his best efforts to remain cool.

The woman at the desk struggled to respond, flummoxed, but only for a brief moment.

“I will see what I can do for you, sir.”

“Thank you.” Victor smiled and quickly escaped. He needed to get up to his room before more staff arrived there, but he wanted to cover some ground first just in case. He circled the lobby once over, painfully aware of how absurd and ridiculous the front desk woman probably thought he was as he was periodically peeking under his coat and feeling for changes. There was nothing--no increase in light, no electricity pulsing within him.

None of the people in the lobby could be his one. That left only the bellhops, who he thought he had seen three or four of when they first arrived.

Back upstairs, Victor paced the length of his room as he waited for his towels. When the knock came, he opened the door perhaps a little too eagerly, but given his situation he felt it was understandable--even if no one else was aware yet.

He was greeted by _two_ bellboys, each holding a towel in hand. They both looked terrified. That front desk woman was a true comrade.

“Perfect!” He held out his right hand to accept the towels, keeping his left in his pocket. Both men cautiously handed them over. He didn’t feel anything yet, but he wanted to be sure and check, thinking he might need to be even closer. “I should tip you,” Victor proclaimed thoughtfully. “Please come in for a moment.” The bellhops shot each other a look, but timidly came into the entryway.

Victor slid into the bathroom to put away the towels and briefly check his finger. Still nothing but the faintest tingle. He fumbled around in his pocket for money and returned to the main room.

“Here you go.” Trying to get as close as possible, he crowded them both towards the door, and with a heavy lurch of shame slipped money into each of the boy's back trouser pockets, lingering in them just a beat too long to gauge his body's reaction. After feeling nothing, he reached between the two to turn the knob of the door and let them out. He thanked them as they rushed away down the hall.

He went to the phone to immediately call and request more items to be brought up by the remaining bellhops. He would really need to put in a good word for that woman at the front desk.

Alas, none of the staff he remembered from his arrival, and a few others, seemed to trigger the reaction, so he considered his next move.

The implication that his promised soul might be one of his fellow competitors seemed absurd, the odds of that happening were just unfathomable. He was also relatively sure that he must have met them all at different points in his career. Could this sensation have gone unnoticed? It seemed unlikely since his reaction was so apparent--that feeling of electricity inside him. He hadn’t felt anything like that before. The person simply had to be in that room. And with that, an unromantic, admittedly selfish thought passed through his mind along with some relief, that if this were the case, at least his match wasn’t entirely unattractive.

Victor, now sprawled out on his bed in his underwear, rolled his head to look at the clock. It was getting late, and he’d neglected to actually order any food for himself--he really didn’t want to further subject the hotel staff to any additional requests this evening.  

A new wash of emotion coursed through Victor then as he stared up at the ceiling. The idea that someone was out there for him, just short of reach--it made his chest ache. The very thought made him misty, overcome with the realization of how truly lonely he had felt these last few years--how lonely he was now.

He held up his hand and admired it, that tiny glow that still remained, shining brighter now that the sun had set. “Are you lonely too?” he wondered aloud.

This continued on for a while until he finally slipped into sleep, exhausted from his travels and his afternoon antics.

 

He was awakened in the morning by some loud banging at his door. Victor quickly jumped out of bed and groggily drifted across the room to answer it. They had practice today, but it was still quite early--Yakov was probably still asleep. That left few possibilities for visitors.

“Oh, Yuri,” he said, seeing the young skater before him.

“You don’t even get dressed before you answer the door!” Yuri had a tendency to berate him for his casual aversion to clothing, one of a series of ongoing complaints. Victor didn’t pay it much mind.

“What did you want? It’s early.” Victor was halfway through tying his robe around his waist when he saw it again--the gentle glow from his left index finger. The events of the previous day all came rushing back to him suddenly--his destined mate was nearby, right that second, in the same hotel, and he needed to find them before their chance was lost, and it was highly probable, he learned from his investigation, that it was one of his fellow competitors or perhaps, but hopefully not, one of their decidedly less handsome coaches. Victor loudly gasped at the recollection of this information, as if he’d been unexpectedly zapped.

“What’s wrong with you? I was going to make you get breakfast with me before Yakov woke us up, and try to figure out why you weren’t around last night.” Yuri asserted himself forward and evaluated Victor’s odd posture and peculiar aura--he always seemed a little off to Yuri, but he was extra weird today. Victor was often goofy and scattered, but he never seemed this startled and, strangely, so radiant.

“Yuri can you keep a secret?” Victor jumped through his words quickly and enthusiastically, not pausing for Yuri to acknowledge the request for confidentiality before blabbering on. “I don’t know who, but there’s someone here, and--”

“There’s someone _here_?” Yuri immediately flipped on the lights in Victor’s room and looked around. “Victor what the hell, we weren’t even in the hotel for more than an hour before we went out and you already--”

“No, no, Yuri,” Victor grabbed his shoulders with both hands to keep him in place. “Look,” he said, holding up his left hand. Yuri went completely silent, and slowly reached behind him to turn the light switch off again to get a better visual--the glow was unmistakable in the dim light of dawn.

“Whoa. Mila isn’t going to believe this.” As he spoke he was halfway through texting a message to her on his phone. Victor promptly grabbed the device away from him and erased it.  
  
“You can’t tell anyone. I don’t want this to get out of hand--there will already be reporters here because of the competition and I don’t want to become a spectacle before I figure this out. Whoever it is, I want to meet them without a circus… it wouldn’t be right. It’s important to me.” The sincerity in his voice was clear--an earnest plea from the heart.

“I’ll just tell Yakov.” Yuri had somehow stolen his phone back and was already texting. Victor snatched it away again and threw it away to his bed.

“Why would you even tell Yakov?”

“I don’t have a lot of people to talk to, Victor!” Yuri snapped back indignantly.

“Until I know who it is and what I’m going to do I don’t want anyone else to know, okay?” He knew Yuri wasn’t a romantic--the idea of ‘promised souls,’ the candy-sweet fairytales and imagery surrounding it wasn’t the kind of thing he liked at all. He was more inclined to suspect it was bullshit--probably just a rare defect caused by biology, not some predestined act willed by God. But still, Victor was the type to believe foolishly, and it was a pretty rare occurrence regardless. Luckily Yuri decided to give him this one.

“Fine.” Yuri folded his arms stubbornly. “But how are you even going to figure out who it is? Won’t finding them be a pain in the ass?”

Victor put his fingers to his lips in thought. “A pain in the ass.” He nodded, still thinking. “There _will_ be that.” Yuri bobbed his head silently along, conceding the point.

“So… now what?”

“Let’s talk it over and get something to eat--I’m starving.”


	2. All's Well That Ends Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's got to get to the bottom of this.

The beginning of their upcoming competition was only two days away. Celestino Cialdini was thrilled to see his finest skater finally make the cut--he believed in Yuuri and was confident in his abilities, been dazzled by his step sequences, surprised by his dedication through the season. Yuuri was always determined to succeed, but this year he really wanted to achieve his ultimate goal of competing directly against his idol Victor Nikiforov. It was a noble pursuit, and seemed to give him that extra push he needed.

Of course Celestino also knew how Yuuri reacted to pressure. Considering himself perceptive as a both a coach and as a human being, he couldn’t help but notice Yuuri’s demeanor sharply change as soon as they arrived to Sochi. It was painted clearly across the skater’s face as they carried his bags up to his room--his eyes were sunken, his posture slumped, his gait unsteady. Something was bothering Yuuri Katsuki, and in his coach’s experience, it would be better to get it all sorted out before the actual competition began.

After putting away his own things in another room, Celestino knocked lightly before using a duplicate key to come in, which was generally understood between them to be an okay thing to do. Yuuri was the one skater he’d worked with that he never worried about barging in on in some compromising position.

“Yuuri?” He looked around, realizing he must be in the bathroom. He rapped at the bathroom door. “Are you in there, Yuuri? I wanted to talk to you.” His reply was only an uncomfortable whimper from inside. “Are you feeling sick?” A few moments of silence passed before the door finally opened and a troubled, bespectacled face emerged.

“C-coach… something’s wrong,” he admitted, although it had been obvious from the moment they set foot in the lobby.

“I noticed downstairs. What is it, Yuuri? It’ll be okay.” Celestino carefully put his hand on the skater’s shoulder and massaged reassuringly into the tense muscle; he didn’t loosen up.

“I can’t tell you.” Yuuri’s face was pale and stricken with absolute distress. What on earth could be the matter? His student had no problem bringing up his general insecurities and anxiety before. He’d heard about everything from his struggles with weight, social ineptitude, his utter lack of confidence--this had to be something else.

“Did you eat something weird on the plane? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me, Yuuri,” he tried to be gentle but he would never forgive himself for letting the issue slide in the face of their biggest competition. It wouldn’t be fair to allow a mental roadblock to impede all Yuuri’s hard work up to that point--that was part of his duty as a coach, to make him feel at ease as best he could.

“Coach… I…” Celestino continued to rub at the shoulder through his stuttering words. “There’s a weird… feeling… inside.”

“Are you nauseous? I have some medicine in my bag.”

“No… it’s… my butt.” The reassuring massage morphed into a kind of awkward patting, fingers flapping against his back.

“Like… intestinal ? Or some other kind of pain… a tear… in the walls?” This was really the least fun kind of guessing game, and not what he wanted for his off night in Sochi. He thought they’d maybe go out for a nice celebratory dinner or something.

“It doesn’t… hurt.” Yuuri was sinking lower and lower towards the ground every time he opened his mouth to speak. “It feels kind of good.” He was on the floor of the bathroom at this point, hands covering his face, body trembling.

Celestino inhaled sharply to help compose himself for this next question. He’d been coaching for many years now, thought he’d seen it all, but this was a situation he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest.

“Is there something, ah, in there… Yuuri?”

A drawn out cry of embarrassment came shrieking from the huddled body at his feet.

“No, no,” he tried to spit out his response before his self-consciousness choked him. “I don’t know what’s going on. It just started right when we got here, all of the sudden.”

“Is this really that serious? Do you want me to stay and help you?”

“Y-yes there’s definitely something going on. Please don’t leave.” The boy sounded so worried.

“Do you want me to take you to a doctor?” Yuuri shook his head--and who could blame him for not wanting to involve anyone else in such an odd problem. It was difficult enough for him to tell his coach of many years, let alone a stranger. “I really don’t know what to say… Here, let’s search it.” Celestino pulled out his phone and got ready to type in the symptoms. Nobody could ever accuse him of not being dedicated to his skaters.

“O-Okay.”

“As best as you can, describe what you felt.”

There was a palpable sense of discomfort between the men before Yuuri spoke up.

“I was normal until we were standing in the lobby, and then there was a… sort of a jolt… of… pleasure. I got… aroused I guess.” The noises made by his coach’s typing while he described this made Yuuri want to die right there on the cold bathroom tile. “Umm… it kept getting stronger for a few seconds, like a... pulsating vibration…” There was a hesitation in the electronic keyboard ticks for a half a moment. Yuuri squeezed his eyes closed and balled his fists as tight as he could, trying to power through his humiliation. “Then it just felt really warm and, um, full? Not **full** \--um… maybe charged is a better word. Like a static cling.” His coach wasn’t typing anymore. Yuuri felt his very soul trying to escape his body. “C-coach Celestino…?”

He used every ounce of will he had left to look up at his coach--the expression he found wasn’t the one of pure and total disgust Yuuri had been anticipating. There was a look of surprise, in a strangely pleased way. This almost concerned the skater even more.

“Did you look back there yet, Yuuri?” Celestino took a step closer, eliciting a yelp and spooking him into scooting away and retreating until he was halfway under the sink.

“Of course not! I’m afraid I’ll find something…” A strong hand swooped down and took the boy by his arm, gently tugging on him and bringing him out of his cowering stance, up to his feet.

“I think you’re okay,” his coach spoke softly and handed the boy his phone. “If what you’re saying is true, it could be this… but I think we should check to be sure. Otherwise I’m definitely taking you to a doctor.”

Yuuri looked at the screen: it was some medical website detailing a list of symptoms associated with--

“Rectal… electrical receptacle… condition…” His coach was looking at him like this was supposed to make him feel better.

“You could be an R.E.C., Yuuri. You know, an ‘outlet.’ Like in those terrible movies from a few years ago.”

The realization hit the boy like a brick to the face.

He always heard stories about these kinds of things on the news whenever they happened--rare as they were. Every child learned a bit about it in school, too. In the attempt to make everything seem grand and romantic, most attention was paid to the topic of so-called ‘promised souls,’ and the beautiful glow from the ‘index,’ the part of the pair whose fingertip lights up when they’re near their destined mate. A lot of the stories were sanitized for young children and fussy, prudish older folks--the part where the other person’s glow, indicating the wiring point for the index, came from the anus was often underemphasized.

Outlet glow indicators would be triggered when the index was nearby, the reaction would be stronger the closer you were to them. And, according to the webpage, the sensation would linger and the light would flicker for both parties after first spark, but only for a few hours at most. It would not glow again unless further contact was made, so time was of the essence.

Yuuri hoisted down his track pants in a mad panic before remembering his coach was still beside him.

“Give me a minute?”

Celestino obliged, nodding politely, making sure to close the bathroom door behind him.

The whole ordeal was undeniably awkward, but the possibility that he was witnessing an event like this was exciting nonetheless. In his eyes, it couldn’t be happening to a nicer, more deserving person--Yuuri was graceful, hardworking, and pretty sweet when he could get past his nerves--though his delight in the situation was tinged with some apt worry. For one, Celestino was sure that boy had zero experience with relationships, and this was going to require him to not only get out there and actively find this person, but also be thrust into something powerful and lifelong if he did. He normally didn’t like to pry into his skater’s personal lives if it didn’t affect anything under his jurisdiction as coach, but it would be a shame for Yuuri to get so close to uniting with his promised soul and miss out because he was too shy. He was compelled to assist, called by an almost religious sense of duty.

Waiting by the door he read through more of the information about the condition, hoping that Yuuri was familiar enough with everything else that they wouldn’t have to talk mechanics. Just to be safe, he bookmarked a couple articles to send him later if need be, one on what to expect as an outlet, one debunking misconceptions and myths perpetuated in media, and one on just sex in general in case he was really that oblivious.

A few minutes later, Yuuri finally emerged, an unreadable expression on his face.

Celestino looked up from his phone. “So?”

“There’s no other reason this would happen, right?” His coy smirk was evidence enough that he’d ‘seen the light.’

His coach laughed. “No, definitely not.” Yuuri was slightly more at ease, though still a little shaken. He wasn’t in total panic mode any longer, but the weight of the situation didn’t seem to set in yet.

The two made themselves comfortable in the main room to discuss their plan going ahead. Celestino forwarded him the articles he’d saved, and raised concerns about telling anybody, as it always became highly sought-after news.

“It may help you locate the person if you put it out there, but you would have to deal with a lot of people knowing your business--really personal business, at that.” Yuuri was listening to his every word intently, taking it all in. “But it’s okay, Yuuri. I’m going to do whatever I can to help you find your promised soul--”

“What if--”

“--We can even stay a little longer after the competition if we need to--”

“What if I find out who it is, and… I don’t… want this?” Celestino’s heart sank a little. He was afraid this might happen.

“You will, Yuuri, don’t worry. This doesn’t happen by chance. Whoever it is, it will work out. There’s a reason for it, and it’s a love deeper than most will ever have… better than anything you’ve known before.” The smile on his coach’s face wasn’t actually convincing enough for him, but he nodded anyway. “Now, we do have practice in the morning. It shouldn’t be too late to order something from the kitchen--you need to eat and get a good night’s sleep.”

Celestino got up to leave, and gave the still mostly dumbstruck skater a too-powerful pat on the back before exiting his room for the night, promising to return early in the morning.

Yuuri remained on the edge of his bed, trying to push a persistent, unhelpful idea out of his head--it nagged and overpowered everything else--this thought that no matter who his ‘promised soul’ ended up being, they simply weren’t going to be good enough. They weren’t going to be the person he admired, the person he held in the highest regard, the person he wanted to look at everyday. He hated himself for it, that he could have such a selfish concern while being in a situation a lot of people dreamed about. Why was it that he couldn’t even get pre-destined love right?

A part of him wanted to forget the whole thing, just go back to focusing on the Grand Prix Final, live out the rest of his days as if his asshole had never emitted a magical glow of fate.

There was someone else to consider, though--some poor soul who might really want to find him. His reaction earlier had been so powerful and electrifying, the other person must have felt it too. Maybe they were more romantic and idealistic than he was. Was it fair of him to deny them a chance to at least meet? Perhaps they could come to a mutual understanding--the person might already be in a relationship and not even want him--that would be a relief.

Even if they did initially want to be with him, surely he wouldn’t seem appealing after they got to know him, with nothing to offer this person other than… whatever purpose ‘outlets’ served to their ‘index.’

Yuuri pulled out his phone. It was time to read the articles Celestino had sent him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about to really kick off. Thanks for sticking with me.


	3. A Light At The End Of The Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finds himself in a dark place.

It was a bittersweet night for Victor. He would never be so up his own ass that he couldn’t appreciate winning gold at a competition--being up his _own_ ass wasn’t his concern in the slightest.

Since discovering he was an ‘index,’ the half of a pair of connected souls whose left index finger would glow upon close contact, his time outside of practice and performance had been spent hovering around his fellow skaters, their coaches and companions, desperately trying to find his ‘outlet.’ Just as his attempts with the hotel staff before, it was to no avail.

There was Christophe--usually there was time to devote to him when they wound up in the same place. But this time he mostly ignored Chris, at first--he was an old acquaintance and surely he would have noticed years ago had it been him that triggered the signal. His friend of course suspected something peculiar was going on when he spotted Victor giving sportsmanlike ass slaps to Jean-Jacques Leroy and Michele Crispino after their short program performances--both targets had looked severely uncomfortable afterwards. Victor was always friendly and congratulatory to other skaters, but never so handsy.

Chris confronted Victor about his odd behavior, but the legend managed to stay strong this time, unlike with Yuri--his secret safe. He found it easier to resist the temptation to announce everything to the world after time had passed.

Expectations started to fade as plan after plan, encounter after encounter, came up with nothing. The glow from his index finger had gone completely, and he had been in closer proximity to all his fellow skaters than the first day in the lobby with no further reaction. Cao Bin was quiet and in his own head as always, and had looked at the Russian skater with some contempt when he tried to come over. The skater from Japan seemed nervous and upset enough that Victor didn’t wish to invade his personal space (he might have been crying), but still--he had been in close enough proximity, he thought.

Besides, no one around him shared his same searching look--they would have to be trying too, wouldn’t they?

After their initial talk about the phenomenon, he assigned Yuri Plisetsky to snoop around and keep an ear open for anyone talking about having a strange experience in the lobby. He hadn’t overheard anything, except for some attendants complaining about some pervert’s odd room service requests.

Now the competition was over. Just like his glow, hope had dwindled.

Could his promised soul really have felt that same electricity, been subjected to that magical feeling of passion and somehow decided not to pursue it? It was too much to wrap his head around. How could a person feel that and then just... leave? Maybe this wasn’t what all the fairytales built it up to be. This was the depressing realization he dwelled on--one that required a lot of alcohol to deal with. Luckily, the post-competition banquet was that night.

During the event, Victor put his best face forward and tried to not look so despondent when he should be celebrating his victory--he didn’t feel much like a winner. Eyes wandered the room for anything to divert his thoughts, eventually spotting the competitor from Japan--the man was an excellent skater, but he stumbled through both his performances. He looked like he was having an even worse night than Victor. At least he wasn’t the only one who was miserable.

Perhaps the plan to drown in alcohol that evening were shared as well--the boy could drink--and Victor was appreciative. The more intoxicated the other skater got the more distracted from the eternal problem of having missed out on finding his soulmate Victor became.

“Katsuki Yuuri,” Victor whispered, finding himself somehow smiling as he pulled out his phone to snap some pictures of the scene unfolding before him. Yuuri was going through the room confronting people and challenging them to drunken contests. He aggressively went after little Yuri, like he had a score to settle--later he unleashed himself on Chris in a surprisingly erotic pole dancing display. The way he transformed from meek and cute to domineering and sexy was a marvel. He became so fixated, it was difficult to keep up with taking videoes. Who would be next to get challenged? Maybe he would be next? Victor wanted to be next--and at least, of the things he found himself desiring, he got that.

Once Yuuri had Victor in his sights, he never looked away. The touches the man gave him were so firm but caring--he was pulled into unrelenting dance after dance--and there was no complaint. Yuuri lead him around so tenderly, but looked at him so ferociously, sparking a completely new electricity through his body. He was finally having fun--indulging in affection without the grand pressure of eternity. Maybe he wouldn’t find his true ‘promised soul,’ but that was okay--maybe nights like this were just as good--maybe it was better to create your own storm instead of waiting for lightning to strike.

“Let me take a picture of us together,” Victor said late into the night, by that point they were both too drunk to care about being clingy and borderline raunchy in front of a huge group of people. Yuuri smiled and wrapped his arm around Victor’s shoulder, forcefully pulling him in and nearly causing him to lose his balance. He laughed and pulled out his phone, holding it back as he squished his head near his new favorite skater so they would both make it in the shot.

“Victor,” Yuuri drawled, putting up his hand in front of his face. “Camera flash... my eyes… now I’m even more blind. HA.” He cracked up through his slurred words, closing his eyes to shield them further from the bright light.

Victor smiled and went to turn his flash off to save their burning retinas, only to realize suddenly that it wasn’t on.

It wasn’t on.

Victor froze, gasping with the epiphany--immediately sober as a judge.

Hands tugged at his shirt, bodies pulled closer together. He felt Yuuri press against him.

“Victor… I’m…” Fingers clenched in the fabric across his chest.

Victor put his phone away and slowly inched his trembling left hand to his companion’s hip, carefully watching as the light grew shockingly brighter.

A breathy, pornographic moan thundered through the banquet room.

Victor was definitely sober now.

“We need to get out of here,” he realized out loud, wrapping his arm around Yuuri to usher him away. Everyone in the room was staring, of course, as Victor hurriedly carried a flushed, panting man out of the banquet hall. The last couple days weren’t going to be good for his personal reputation, he supposed.

After a lengthy, awkward journey to Victor’s hotel room, a hot and bothered Yuuri slung over his shoulder, being still too inebriated to be trusted to keep pace, he managed to get them inside and out of sight. Placing Yuuri down, he tried to calmly assess the situation; it was difficult to think straight when there was this beautiful thing writhing around on his bed, making obscene noises.

He went to the kitchen to get them some water.

“What did you do to me,” he heard Yuuri slur from across the room. He was still so drunk--Victor was desperate to confirm what had to be true, that Yuuri was his match, his promised soul, his destined mate. But he was practically passed out--it would be ungentlemanly to disrobe an intoxicated man to check his asshole for shining beacons of love, even if he was probably your soulmate--right? “Victor,” he growled, facedown in a puddle of his own drool, “do it again…!!” Victor chugged down a bottle of water before approaching the bed.

He climbed up next to Yuuri, looking him over affectionately before slowly moving in to caress his shoulder and lift him into a sitting position.

This was that moment he’d dreamed of--the romantic confrontation. The beautiful part of the story where they would turn to look deeply into each other’s sparkling eyes, consumed by that electric energy and passion, and together realize what had always been missing was each other.

“God it’s hot--it’s so hot in my ass, Victor… I’m… don’t know.”

So romantic.   

“Yuuri,” he cooed gently, handing him a bottle of water and forcing him to drink, “we need to talk for a minute.”

“About my ass?” Yuuri elaborated by grabbing at Victor’s thighs and hoisting himself on top of the man, mounting him, pinning him to the mattress with drunken determination. At some point in the night they managed to get Yuuri’s pants back on, but the fly was still open and they had ridden off his hips enough to provide a tantalizing view of skin and chiseled bone.     

Being this close was exhilarating. The glow from his finger was still bright and warm--he trailed his hand along Yuuri’s side, watching the light intensify. The lower it moved, the harder Yuuri pressed against him, the faster his breathing became. Victor’s fingers glided their way down his spine, and a sharp sound from Yuuri’s throat forced its way out when the index finger reached the small of his back.   

He leaned down and rested his head at Victor’s neck, the arching of his back forcing that glowing point closer to its target.

“You feel it, don’t you?”

“Victor…”

“Is it alright if I…”

Yuuri lifted his head to look at Victor--he was grinning like a total fool.

“You’re Victor… of course it’s alright.” The way he responded was just coherent enough to ease the other man’s worry over the morality of his impending investigation. Without another word, Victor groped at Yuuri’s rear. The sensation was different than he’d expected--certainly it was arousing for them both, but there was something more as his fingers gripped into the fabric fit over muscular buns--it was as if it was… buzzing. He could literally feel Yuuri’s butt vibrating. What’s more, he could hear music.

“My phone’s ringing… ignore it.” Yuuri was still panting heavily and grinding himself against Victor’s thigh, making it all the more difficult for Victor to grab the phone out of his pocket and check to see who was calling.

It was Celestino Cialdini. That would be his coach. He was probably worried about him--distraught because Yuuri drank himself into delirium and was last seen being carried off by a man the front desk employees had been warning every guest about because he was some kind of insatiable sex criminal.

They needed to stop.

What was a day of waiting for a lifetime? Now that they found each other, there was no way they would ever part--Victor believed in that.

Yuuri was locked in a tight embrace and carried to his feet. He smelled like alcohol, his hair and clothes were a mess, but behind those clunky glasses his eyes did sparkle beautifully, and Victor was lost in them. He stroked the smaller man’s face with his left hand, letting his glowing finger ghost lightly over full lips.

“You need to get back, let your coach know you’re alright…” He had regret in his voice, but he knew it was for the best. Yuuri seemed disappointed too, but he nodded with understanding. “I don’t think we should tell anyone yet… not until we’ve talked it over. I’m here for another day, will you meet me here in the morning?”

“Of course,” Yuuri responded without pause, gazing up at him lovingly. “You’re Victor. I’d do anything for my Victor… little Victor... Vicchan..” Now Yuuri was starting to cry.

They would have to discuss this in the light of morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the encouragement--more buttlamps on the way.


	4. Crossed Wires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning sheds new light on Victor and Yuuri's budding relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update--thanks for all the positive words!

Victor was antsy--up early, active, barely able to sleep after such an amazing night. How could one wait to be reunited with his promised soul again, to finally confirm and celebrate what he knew was true. Finally being able to see that beautiful shining light to put his heart at ease was all Victor could think about. A morning run was just the remedy for passing the time, and happiness wrapped around him like a warm blanket even in the cold air. It was like he was a teenager again, so full of energy and desire. What could be better than finding yourself swept off your feet, swooning over some guy and then having him turn out to be your destined mate?

The smile of disbelief would not leave his face.

There were particulars he did not understand of course, and many questions he couldn’t help but think about. Why did his finger not light up a couple days ago at the rink? Was he too far away? What was the exact distance required for the reaction to take place? Was it different for all indexes? Was it going to keep happening whenever he was near Yuuri--and would that be uncomfortable for him?

Years ago there was a popular series of books Victor read, later turned into even more popular movies he never got around to seeing, glorifying an index and outlet relationship called ‘Lighthouse.’ In that story, the glow was unrelenting whenever they were together--they eventually fixed this in book three. They were able to permanently ‘extinguishing’ the light by uniting the points together and transferring the current to a new form. Of course, this was just a novel--a lot of it was surely embellished for drama.

After hours of jogging and wistful meandering through the city, Victor returned to the hotel. He recognized the woman at the front desk as the one he had awkwardly dealt with before, and decided to approach her and try to set things straight--especially since he wanted breakfast and was afraid they might not deliver it to him otherwise.

“Hello Mr. Nikiforov.” Her tone was professional, as expected.

Victor ran his fingers through his hair and smiled. “I must apologize for these last few days. You must think I’m out of my mind,” he laughed.

“It’s no trouble, sir.” She shuffled around some papers, looking ever occupied. Something about her seemed so trustworthy--maybe it was her unassuming yet stylish glasses, or how she surely believed he was a deranged pervert and didn’t even scowl at him.

“No, really, thank you for all your help sending everybody up--I didn’t really need all those deliveries…” She kept stapling papers and putting them in neat little stacks. “You see--I’m… I shouldn’t really even be telling you this...”

“You don’t have to explain, Mr. Nikiforov.”

“I’ve been looking for someone--I didn’t know who, which is why I had to see so many people, but it’s alright now. I--I finally found him last night, the one I’m going to spend my life with.”

“It’s… not one of our staff, is it?” She gave Victor a stern, questioning look.

Victor shook his head and waved his hand. “Oh no, I ruled them out first thing. I won’t be pestering them again, I can assure you.”

The woman still eyed him carefully. “One of our guests, then?” She was calm, but pointed in her questioning.

“Yes, actually.” Victor was honestly just thrilled to have an opportunity to mention meeting Yuuri. He wanted to shout his love from the rooftops--but that would be for later, after he had a chance to meet with him again. He was certain this woman was a vault though, she wouldn’t cause any problems. “It’s--I shouldn’t say. I haven’t really confirmed things with him yet…”

“Oh,” there was something in her voice--maybe disappointment? She seemed somewhat displeased. “I do wish you’d tell me, sir.” She had abandoned her stacking of papers for a notepad and a pen.

And how could he refuse her request, with her harmless-looking bespectacled face. “It’s Yuuri,” he blurted out. “The skater from Japan--Katsuki.” He couldn’t help by smile stupidly as he gushed about him. “What can I say? Sparks flew! He wears glasses too... I couldn’t have dreamed of someone more perfect.”

“Congratulations,” she said, remaining expressionless as she hurriedly wrote something down.

“Thank you--I better get back upstairs… I have plans with him later. Would it be possible for me to get breakfast?”

“Certainly. Same as last time?”

“Yes, perfect! You’re the best.” And with that, Victor rushed back to the elevator bank. He wanted to make sure he was back for when Yuuri came to see him--like they agreed the night before.

After he was out of the lobby, the front desk woman immediately picked up the phone to make a call.

 

 

-

 

 

It was late in the morning when Celestino finally went to wake up Yuuri. The night before was a crazy whirlwind, and of course he felt a little guilty for not keeping a better eye on the poor boy when he’d been so upset. At the point he did finally get to Yuuri he was blackout drunk, disheveled and crying. On top of his major loss at the grand prix final and his dog passing away, he also hadn’t even attempted to locate his promised soul--instead spending all night dancing around like a fool and causing a scene. It weighed on Celestino--he was concerned that Yuuri was so set in his ways to deny himself happiness, and he would not even try for the possibility of having someone.

Decidedly he would try to appear as upbeat as he could to not trouble Yuuri further when he let himself into the room to try forcing the boy awake. Attempting to do it gently was ineffective and only the eventual vigorous shake was enough to stir him, knowing he was successful when hearing the distinctive, pained groan of a very hungover man.

“Yuuri, you need to get some water and have a shower.” His response was another wail. “You can’t spend all day in bed.”

“Yes I can.” Yuuri stuffed his head under his pillow.

Celestino wanted to scold him, but resisted.

“I’ll leave you alone for a while, but then you’re getting up and I’m going to take you around a bit to cheer you up, okay? We’ll look for your index.” He gave the lumpy shapes of Yuuri twisted up in the bedsheets a firm pat.

“Noooooo.” Celestino ignored the muffled cries.

“You have to, Yuuri. It’s an order from your coach.” As he spoke he was making his way to leave, not waiting around to discuss it. It was absurd--not at least looking once to find his soul mate. Like so many other things, this was a problem he felt Yuuri needed his guidance with and could not be trusted to solve on his own.

Just as the other man had finally left and Yuuri found some semblance of peace in his hungover agony, he was startled awake again by the loud ring of the hotel phone. He desperately tried to ignore it, but the hammering screech pierced through his bones. Rolling over to grab the phone felt harder than any jump he’d ever attempted.

“H-hello…?” The sound of his own voice was irritating--it hurt to speak.

“Hello Mr. Katsuki. We’re just doing a routine wellness check. Is everything alright with you?”

Yuuri rubbed at his dry, sore eyes and tried to comprehend the question. The words triggered the avalanche of things that ‘weren’t alright’ back into his mind--his complete meltdown during the competition, his poor dog passing away without him having said goodbye, his coach pressuring him to go out and find his ‘index’ when the whole thing sounded terrifying, plus his brain felt like it was trying to escape from out of his eye sockets.

“No. Well, I guess I drank too much last night. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure why he was apologizing to her, but it felt right.

“That’s a shame, sir. Would you like something to help with that brought up to your room?” The way she was speaking made it sound like some kind of trick question.

“I guess so… yeah.” Yuuri finally forced himself to sit up.

“I’ll do that right away. Is anyone else with you right now? ...Will they be needing anything?” Yuuri couldn’t remember ever getting reverse roomservice like this. Then again he could barely remember anything at the moment.

“No, he just left.” He swung his feet onto the floor and forced himself to stand.

“Alright, I’ll be there shortly, Mr. Katsuki.”

“Thanks.” The sound of the phone slamming into its cradle made him want to rip off his own ears.

Somehow he found the strength to wash up and put on a shirt and trackpants before the knock came at his door. The small yet commanding brunette woman had brought up some kind of drink, some pills and a small plate of food.

“Um, wow… thank you,” he nodded at her politely and accepted the delivery. She looked around for a moment before speaking.

“Excuse me, sir, but do you know Victor Nikiforov?”

It finally clicked together for Yuuri--this was probably a ploy to butter up a small time skater in hopes he could introduce this woman to Victor. But the joke was on her, he was too much of a loser to ever approach him.

“Oh, no. I’ve never actually talked to him. Sorry.” Apologizing to her just seemed right.

She didn’t have the look of disappointment he was expecting.

“I was afraid of that. I don’t want to alarm you, Mr. Katsuki, but I thought you should know that he seems to be under the impression that you’re either currently romantically involved or are going to be at some point today. We’ve had some… incidents recently, and I wanted to offer assistance in the event this makes you feel threatened or uncomfortable. If you’d like to be transferred to one of our affiliates for the rest of your stay we can arrange for this immediately. Your safety and privacy is our utmost concern…”

She continued to speak but Yuuri wasn’t absorbing any words after ‘romantically involved.’

“There’s some kind of mistake--he wouldn’t… Why would you think that?”

“He told me, directly.”

“Are you… sure?”

“I am absolutely positive, sir.”

Yuuri stared at her.

“Me?”

“He said ‘Katsuki,’ and later clarified that it was you, the skater from Japan. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t completely serious about this, sir.”

“And he said what about me?” He was shocked that Victor would even be aware of who he was.

“I don’t like to pry into the personal matters of guests, but he indicated that he was planning to see you later this evening. I’m only bringing this up out of concern for your safety in the event this is unwanted attention and to offer assistance to improve your stay.”

Yuuri didn’t understand why there would be any trouble. He felt like he had been a fan of Victor long enough to have a firm grasp on his character and he was nothing if not respectable. The only concern he had was for his own health after the heart attack he was surely going to have.

“Okay. I think I’m… okay.”

“If you’re sure, then. If there’s you do end up needing anything please don’t hesitate to contact us. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”

Yuuri thought for a moment.

“Um… are you allowed to tell me what room he’s staying in?”

 

 

-

 

 

Yuuri had already knocked loudly on the door before he started having second thoughts. It was too late for him to turn around now, even though he didn’t quite know what he wanted to come of this meeting. Either it would be some kind of mistake and his first real encounter with his idol would be incredibly awkward, or it would be true and his first encounter with his idol would be incredibly awkward. Of the options, of course Yuuri wanted it to be true. The idea that he’d caught Victor’s interest somehow was exciting, maybe the best compliment he could think to receive. Dating him, however, sounded like a terrifying prospect. How could he date someone he had been too afraid to even talk to? He had never even been in a relationship before.

Then there was that looming matter of promised souls that still nagged his mind. Celestino would be angry with him for going to see Victor instead of trying to find them, but the suggestion that there was someone out there he could love more than Victor was impossible--lights or no. Besides, all the things he has been reading about being an outlet sounded crazy. The only kind of eggs he cared about were the kind in his breakfast.

Yuuri decided a shot at Victor was worth sacrificing that opportunity, even if it didn’t work out. He just had to try not to mess up--like how he felt he always did--like he did in the grand prix final--like he did with his family and his dog--why would Victor want him exactly?

Before he could turn back, the door swung open--and there he was, with that dazzling smile, in a plain t-shirt that he somehow made look like the heights of fashion. The sight was too much to take in, the air was forced from his lungs and his whole body jolted with nervousness and excitement.

“Yuuri--I was starting to think you might not come.” His voice was a shock to Yuuri’s entire being--the way Victor’s lips curved around his name was almost enough to make him faint. He even looked genuinely happy to see him--maybe that was just something he was good at.

“Of course I came!” Victor ushered him inside the room and closed the door behind him. This was it--there was really no out this time. A determination awakened in Yuuri. He was going to take Victor out on a date, even if it was just once, even at the cost of a destined soul mate, even if it crashed and burned and he felt terrible later--plus, he was low enough already, it could hardly get worse, and he would never forgive himself if he didn’t try. This was a once in a lifetime chance too, and unlike finding his promised soul, it was one he truly wanted to pursue. Yuuri suddenly ached for him in a way he’d never experienced with anyone before.

“I’ve been thinking all morning. There’s so much I want to do, but of course we need to talk about it.” He was so beaming and beautiful, Yuuri could barely pay attention to what he was saying.

“Do you maybe want to go somewhere? I’m not as familiar with the city as I’m sure you are… there’s a nice restaurant a short while from here I could, um, take you to, if you want. Or anywhere else you want to go.” Yuuri was drenched in sweat. Having his hero right in front of him was wreaking havoc on his body. Victor looked back at him after his earnest proposal with the sweetest expression, it made his heart flutter. He wanted to know him so badly.

“I was thinking I could test out your ass first. I’ve been thinking about it all day--I just want to make sure all that is okay before we leave.” He spoke so bluntly, but his voice was dripping with enough kindness that the strangeness of the statement didn’t fully hit Yuuri for a few seconds.

Was Victor testing him? Joking? It seemed odd that he would need to perform for Victor sexually before he agreed to go out with him, and frankly mortifying, but Yuuri had never exactly done this before--did people do this? He wanted to die right there.

“I’m… I…” Victor moved closer to him. His body couldn’t handle it. He recoiled away.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m… um, well, kind of embarrassed, truthfully.” Making eye contact seemed to be the most difficult thing in the world at this moment, so he stared at the floor. He was a virgin, not a prude, but this felt wrong.

“Is it because I’m a man? If you’re uncomfortable about it, I understand...” Yuuri felt like his face was hot enough to melt right off his skull.

“Umm, I’m--no, no. That’s fine... very fine--more than okay it’s just that… I haven’t done this before.”

Victor laughed lightly. “Well of course not.” His tone of voice wasn’t exactly insulting, and really Yuuri shouldn’t be surprised he would say so, as he assumed he was constantly projecting the image of being a clueless virgin, but it still stung.

“Right.” He finally looked up at Victor after a pause in their conversation to properly gauge his reaction. Victor’s cheeks were a little red too, and he almost looked concerned. Worry coursed through Yuuri at the sight--that perhaps he ruined his chance to get close to Victor. He didn’t want to blow this opportunity--well, he did, in a way. “I can do it. I still want to do it--with you, if you… would want to,” Yuuri blurted out, desperately swallowing his shyness.  He just had to psyche himself up. It wasn’t as though he’d never thought about pleasuring Victor before.

Victor walked closer to him and gently took his arm. Their eyes locked and Victor searched his expression for a moment before leaning in to Yuuri’s ear. “How could I not want to?” he whispered. Victor’s touch moved across his back, his left arm snaking around Yuuri in a way that felt too intimate too quickly but also incredibly good.

Yuuri exhaled in relief before pure adrenaline and unprecedented need took over and he was pushing Victor to sit on the bed. Within moments Yuuri was down on his knees in between Victor’s legs and hastily unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants.

“T-tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he stuttered out as he fumbled with the zipper. Victor reached out and took Yuuri’s face in his hand, tilting it up so their eyes could meet again.

Victor looked confused. The boldness Yuuri had been feeling was quickly giving way to pure terror. He hadn’t even started and already he did something wrong. But then Victor smiled--it was possibly the best thing he’d ever seen.

“You’re eager,” he teased, standing up a little to remove his pants. His shirt followed shortly after. Yuuri wanted to look away but hands rested in his hair and faced him forward. He never imagined that within the first few minutes of finally meeting Victor he would be face-to-dick with him, bowed at his crotch. He leaned in and mouthed over the bulge in the fabric of the thin black panties before him. Victor was already getting hard. This was not where Yuuri expected his day to go. “I’ve been a little on edge since last night,” he confessed, massaging encouraging circles in Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri was losing himself in the sensation of being so close, until he was jolted out of it by Victor suddenly putting a hand on his ass.

An involuntary cry lept from his throat at the sensation, and he grabbed Victor’s wrist to pull it away--he was about wail again when he saw it.

Between their bodies there was bright, shining light, emanating from Victor’s left index finger.

“Victor…” There was only one explanation, he knew that--but it didn’t feel real. “Wh… what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Victor really did look worried now. “Are you okay? Should I rub you with a dryer sheet?”

“Rub me with--what?”

“I read that it might help if an outlet is feeling overstimulated.”

Yuuri was finding everything hard to process--Victor was his index, and apparently knew all about it already. Did an index have a way to know without meeting? Celestino had sent some informative articles to him, but there wasn’t much about indexes in them.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Yuuri lied, letting go of Victor’s hand and stepping away. He could certainly feel the anal reaction, and it was intense given how _close_ they were, but it was somehow overshadowed by the pounding in his chest.

The prospect of finding his promised soul hadn’t interested him much at all. He never spent much time thinking about any of it as a child, whether destined soulmates could be a real thing. Most of his life he’d just been driven to skate and ignored relationships because of his fixation with Victor. Victor was the only person he even entertained being with in fantasies. All the readings Yuuri had been scrolling through about outlets, which had previously terrified and repulsed him--he was starting to see them differently if it was with Victor.

And clearly Victor knew they were connected like that--that’s why he wanted to see him--that’s what he was talking about the entire time.

Yuuri sat down on the floor.

“I didn’t know it was so intense for outlets.” Victor seemed to want to come closer to help, but was holding himself back for fear it might overwhelm the poor man. “I know it’s supposed to be strong at first, but you seemed okay up until now… I wonder if you’re having a surge.”

Yuuri looked up at him, feeling nauseous. “Do you know a lot about all this?”

“Not really,” Victor smiled. “I know a lot about the romantic stories.” He lowered himself to the floor in solidarity, keeping a few feet away. “I know I want to get to know you better.”  Yuuri didn’t bother trying to hide his blush.

“I do too.” Yuuri inched himself closer to Victor until they were side by side at the foot of the bed.

“What should I do, Yuuri?”

“Can I see it?” he asked, gesturing to his hand. Victor nodded, slowly lifting it towards him. Yuuri took it, gently rotating it as he gazed at that otherworldly glow. “What does it feel like?”

“Kind of warm, a little tingle. Kind of like a vibration I guess.” Victor squeezed his hand. “What about you?”

Yuuri swallowed. “Same, but… you know. It’s down there...” Victor’s thumb was gently rubbing his palm. It steadied him a bit, and although the feeling in his ass was still powerful he was able to keep himself still and collected.

“That part of you…” His sultry voice sent shivers up his spine--Victor moved in closer, took Yuuri’s chin and placed that glowing digit against his lips. “Will you show it to me?”

It was then Yuuri remembered stripping Victor with full intention to suck him off just minutes ago. It wasn’t really his place to be acting shy now. He started shuffling out of his track pants.

“Just don’t… do anything yet. Okay?” Yuuri pleaded, down to his underwear, turning himself to put his ass on display.

“Not until you beg me for it,” he said wryly.

Yuuri lowered his underwear down enough to reveal himself, not having the courage to take them off all the way---although somehow he felt more exposed with them partially on. “Y-you can go ahead.”

Victor took his words as permission to reach out and caress, cupping a soft yet muscular cheek with his right hand. Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep his cool while being so intimately examined. He felt Victor spread him apart a bit--the silence was cruel, he needed him to say something. A few more moments passed between them before the quiet was broken.

“Yuuri…”

“Yes?”

“There’s… nothing.”


	5. Circuit Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insert plug into outlet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so delayed! I'll try not to do that again.

“What do you mean nothing?” Yuuri’s voice was panicked.

“I don’t see any glow.” Victor was trying to hide his disappointment.

Yuuri reached back to spread his own cheeks apart, pushing himself closer. “Are you sure?” Victor couldn’t help being a ruffled by the lewd display, but politely pulled the skater’s underwear back up for him and guided him back to the floor. “It was definitely there before. I promise. I saw it--I-I felt it...” He looked like he might tear up.

Victor placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder in comfort. “I don’t doubt you. I’m just… confused.” They both glanced at his left index finger--the glow was gone.

“It was definitely there… unless it’s just a mistake.” Yuuri ran a a stressed hand through his hair.

Vitor squeezed him. “No. I reacted to you, I’m sure of it. And you did to me, right?” Yuuri was petrified for a moment that he could just be mistaking his horny response to Victor for supernatural destiny--but that light he saw was real, and although he always had a strong reaction to Victor, it’d never been quite this targeted and powerful.

He nodded and took a deep breath. “Maybe we can look it up… my coach sent me some articles. Maybe there’s some way to turn it back on?” Victor smiled and pulled out his phone.

“Great idea! I also did a little bit of research… So your coach knows?”

Yuuri pulled out his phone to search too. “Yeah. I kind of freaked out at him. I didn’t know what was going on.”

“Understandable.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here. I don’t really want to tell him.”

“He’ll worry about you.”

“I know... He’s just been kind of pushy about this instead of just letting me figure it out for--” Yuuri cut himself off. “I shouldn’t speak ill of my coach, especially to a competitor. Sorry.”

They both sat there, comfortably scrolling on their phones and occasionally glancing at each other.

“Ah, I think I’ve found something.” Victor leaned over so they could both see his screen. “It says that in the event of flickering, dim or vanquished light, outlets may need a jumpstart to reignite their glow.” Yuuri shuffled closer so they could both look at the instructions on the webpage.

“Okay, what do we…” he trailed off as they both simultaneously read what would be required next. Reignition was triggered by the insertion of the linked index finger. There were helpful diagrams displayed. Bringing the points together was supposed to create a ‘spark’ of sorts. Mostly it just looked like meticulous anal fingering.

“We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.” Victor spoke as if he could sense Yuuri’s discomfort. “We could go somewhere, have a drink”

Yuuri was still a bit too hungover to even think about wanting to start drinking again. He was nervous, but still determined. He would be leaving on a flight back to Detroit the next day, and felt in his heart he had to make that connection with Victor before then.

“Tonight.” Yuuri spoke surely. “Let’s go out, and then we’ll do it tonight.”

They took their time to freshen up in their respective rooms, both feeling happy but in a way that was tinged with uncertainty. The faltering of the glow wasn’t something Victor had ever heard talked about or included in any story, and while it obviously seemed to be something that could happen to people, it put a damper on the grand romance of finding a soulmate. He realized he was trying to go about this as he would any other performance, with skill and suavity, and now that things weren’t following the choreography he didn’t know what to do. Honestly, he was attached to the idea that his destined soul mate would definitely always want him--if the process could malfunction in one regard, he was afraid it might mean that could go wrong too.

Yuuri on the other hand found it a bit freeing. The pressure of destiny was daunting, and he was never enraptured with the fairytale aspect of it all. All he knew is he had a night to form a bond with his idol--maybe nothing would come of it. He probably didn’t deserve Victor forever, and it would prove to be some kind of mistake, but it was a chance he had to take.

They were both a little awkward when they met back up that afternoon for coffee, going through the motions of small talk, listing off family members and general details of their lives. But eventually the subject turned to skating, and Yuuri couldn’t help but gush about Victor’s last performance--his eyes filled with joy and although he was embarrassed by his own enthusiasm he didn’t stop. It tugged at Victor’s heart--if only the boy didn’t have to relentlessly belittle his own work too.

“You don’t give yourself much credit,” Victor interrupted him in the middle of a self-addressed beatdown over missed jumps in his short program. “It’s important to recognize what you’ve done wrong so you can fix it, but you’re obsessing over the mistake instead of the solution.”

Yuuri was caught off guard, not having realized he was being hard on himself--it felt normal to talk that way.

“I know I can do better, I just feel like... this was my chance and I messed it up.”

“You’re still young enough. You have many more opportunities, I’m sure.”

Yuuri smiled. “I wish you were my coach--you’d be good at it.”

“You think so?” The comment surprised him--nobody ever seemed to think he was reliable or useful in a capacity other than performing. Because, really, he hadn’t ever been. Yuuri averted his eyes and sighed sweetly, dismissively, but the idea stayed with Victor, idling in the background of his mind during their now pleasant conversation.

The sun was already setting when they returned to the hotel. Yuuri had been brushing off persistent calls and texts from his coach, and Victor had been massaging young Yuri, much to the boy's ire, instructing him to stall and make up excuses for why he wasn't around celebrating with his fellow skaters.

Victor had been recognized a couple times while they were out, but he posed for pictures and doled out autographs like a polished professional and they continued on without incident. When they passed through the lobby the staff gawked, but ultimately let them be.

It was a quiet ride up the elevator, a long walk to the door--but there was no backing down for either of them--it was time to take charge.

Yuuri was the first to break their static silence.

“I’m flying out tomorrow….”

“So I suppose we better get to it, then.” Victor shot him a dazzling smile that robbed the air from his lungs and the blood from his head. There was a shared hesitation, that it was maybe a bit much too fast--but an event like this wasn’t normal. For Victor, there was some comfort in knowing they were bound together--that they would have endless time to work it out and recover any fumbles.

Yuuri was energized just to be near his idol--high off breathing the same air and motivated by the need to return home without further regrets and disappointment.

Yuuri fussed with the long sleeves of his sweater in his attempt to distract himself from Victor’s deep, analytical stare. “I’m not very experienced with this kind of thing.”

Fingers wove through his hair and fell to cup his ear. Victor was right on him, close and warm. Yuuri could hear him breathing, smell his cologne--he felt drunk all over again.

“You’ve never done any butt stuff before?”

“Well I mean… I’ve never had anyone else… do anything, before.” Victor’s hands were wandering now, over his neck and shoulders.Yuuri had to focus all his energy on not dropping dead.

“Alright, we’ll be careful.” Unfazed, he dropped his arms and walked backward towards the bed. He kicked off his shoes and sat down on the mattress, motioning for Yuuri to join him. Once seated, Victor stroked down his back slowly--a faint but encouraging tingle in his tip. With a bolt of courage Yuuri took to undressing himself, soon left bare chested and hot under his hero’s gaze. “Do you want me to take mine off too?”

“Yes,” Yuuri murmured. Victor laughed easily and quickly did away with his sweater and shirt. Being so close to those exposed pecs and abs was hypnotic and arousing enough to make Yuuri forget his terror and reach out to touch. Experimental fingers traced across his collarbone, down the firm muscles of his chest. Victor grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips, giving the back of it a playful kiss.

Before he had time to react, Victor rolled Yuuri onto his stomach. He crawled over him, whispering in his ear to ease him as hands worked to remove Yuuri’s remaining clothes. The vibration of Victor’s voice traveled down the sensitive hairs of his neck--breathy Russian blandishments to keep him anchored while being fondled and bared. A reflexive gasp escaped him when his ass was finally exposed. Victor’s hands and mouth were trailing down his back. He felt a kiss at his tailbone and suddenly his ass cheeks were being affectionately squeezed--all he could manage to do was bury his face into the sheets and try not to scream when he felt a tongue flit over his pucker.

“Sorry,” he responded to Yuuri’s physical recoil. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Yuuri had a moment to exhale the breath he was unaware he’d been holding when Victor moved away to grab something off the nightstand--he'd requested it before they went out before.

“I almost asked you to call downstairs for this.” As Victor spoke he was generously lubing up his fingers. Deciding to test the waters before trying to initiate the spark, he probed at Yuuri’s hole with the slicked index finger of his right hand. “I think they suspect me of being some kind of degenerate.” Yuuri couldn’t suppress a little sob when he felt the cold digit go in. Victor propped him up a little more as he gingerly worked him open and added a second finger.

“Y-you’re not like that. If anything I’m the one they should be worried about. I made them tell me your hotel room and then I--ahhh--barged in and tried to--Vi-Victor!” He began stroking Yuuri’s erection with his other hand. A third finger soon entered inside and Victor was rhythmically rocking into him, pushing deep and forward to continuously target the area that seemed to elicit the most reaction. Yuuri was starting to rut back against him. He wasn’t completely unaccustomed to the sensation--he had a dildo for the rare occasions he was alone long enough to use it, and it would be dishonest to say he never thought of Victor when he did. Having the real Victor awakened something, a primal energy was pulsating through him.

“You’ve really never done this, Yuuri?” Victor continued to stroke his partner’s almost alarmingly hard cock--the faint tingle still present in his index. “You’re getting used to it quickly.”

“You should try to spark it now.” He was getting impatient, feeling as though he was going to burst. Victor silently complied and brought his other hand around to Yuuri’s hole. He inspected his finger, the vibrating sensation still persisted and he thought he could see a little bit of light, though it was hard to tell in the brightly lit room.

“I’m going to turn off the lights.” Victor abruptly stopped his ministrations, removed his fingers and left his position to hurriedly darken their surroundings. Yuuri whined, awashed by a swell of insecurity. He wasn’t particularly ashamed of his body, but if Victor couldn’t stand to look at him it would certainly unleash a whole new world of self-repulsion. He buried his face as deep as he could into the mattress, only knowing Victor had returned when the bed dipped behind him. A hand crept up his thigh. “Come here.”

Yuuri popped his head up to look--it was dark, but he could see Victor was now completely nude, arms splayed across the pillows, his dimly lit finger beaconing him over, signaling in inviting circles. His heart nearly leapt from his chest. He turned around and crawled closer.  

“I thought you didn’t want to look at me,” he admitted, feeling a little stupid.

“On the contrary.” Victor took him by the arm and tugged Yuuri until he was perched over his chest. Hands reached up and snatched the glasses from him and playfully slid them on his own face. “I want to see all of you.” If anyone else had taken his glasses and tried them on without permission he would probably be angry, but seeing Victor do it just went directly to his dick. “Wow Yuuri, you’re really blind.” Yuuri grabbed Victor’s left hand and brought it to his mouth--kissing it teasingly the way Victor had before. The glow in this light was unmistakeable and otherworldly. Victor rubbed the pad against his plump bottom lip, moist with his breath. Yuuri reached his tongue out to meet the skin, inviting it inside the depths, wet and warm--he licked and sucked it with such sincerity Victor almost laughed. “You’re giving me ideas, Yuuri.”

“Oh?” He popped the finger out of his mouth and gave Victor a playful look.

“You taking me into your mouth like that…” His arm wrapped around the small of Yuuri’s back and pulled him closer--thick, muscular thighs deliciously hugged the sides of his body. “I could use this light to check your teeth for cavities.”

Yuuri ducked his head down to hide his soft laugh. “There’s only one cavity I’m worried about right now.” Victor took his words as instructions to slide his now spit-slick finger to Yuuri's loosened opening.

Victor was shocked by how easily they moved together, how despite Yuuri’s timidness he seemed to be happy at every turn. His fairytale encounter had turned into somewhat of a rollercoaster, but there was no challenge Victor wasn’t eager to face--and if that challenge was fingering a cute boy he’d just met until he was sure they were soul mates then all the better.

“How come we never talked before?” Victor smiled sweetly as the tip of his finger reached its destination--the strange buzzing sensation became more intense as it plunged deeper. “You’re so beautiful, I feel like I should have noticed... you’ve been hiding.” Yuuri wasn’t sure if his surge of arousal was because of the glow point nearing its receptor inside him or just because Victor was complimenting him.

“You’re beautiful,” he spoke instinctively and without hesitation, as though it were an obvious correction. “I’m pretty plain.”

“Oh no--not from my view. You’re actually quite… well, right now you’re a little blurry.” Yuuri grabbed his glasses off Victor’s face and set them aside on the bed. Victor added an additional finger, and then another, and began to set a more vigorous pace. They could both feel it getting more and more intense, deeper and othered from just sexual pleasure alone.  

“I want you to put it in,” Yuuri panted, touching his own cock for relief. Victor was also painfully hard at the sight before him but had been trying to focus on reigniting the light and taking care of his partner.

“I am, Yuuri,” he puffed, his left hand still at work, fingering into him roughly, each push mading his vision fuzzy.

“N-no…” Yuuri reached behind him with his free hand and grabbed Victor’s wrist.

“Aren’t we just--” Victor found himself strangely flustered and uncharacteristically unprepared. “I don’t have any condoms.” He almost went soft at the thought of having to call the front desk again.

“I don’t care. Just do it.” Yuuri was feeling bold and lost in the moment. If this was going to potentially be his only chance to have Victor, he really wanted to have him--no more missed opportunities. Yuuri pulled away Victor’s fingers, holding back his voice when they sudden slipped out. He was much more concerned with his lifelong goal of bedding Nikiforov than the task of relighting. He lifted himself up and fussed around, helping himself to a healthy amount of lube before looking to Victor for permission. Yuuri grabbed hold of his dick, positioning himself to take it in. Victor could only nod at him weakly through shaky breaths.

Yuuri sank himself down slowly on Victor’s cock. It was big, hard, Russian, and everything he’d always wanted--hot and painfully satisfying in a way his toys couldn’t fully prepare him for. He worked hard to push away his nagging thoughts telling him how insane this was--maybe it was the influence of the electricity between them making him lose his rational thought, or maybe Victor just made him crazy. Before long he acclimated to the fullness inside him and commenced experimentally fucking himself on it.

A myriad of sensations overwhelmed Victor--a little guilt, the joy of surprise at seeing that impulsive boy who swept him off his feet return, in awe of his strange combination of innocence and debauchery. Victor couldn’t stop himself from taking hold of his hips and matching his newfound prince’s movements, however clumsy--though decidedly hot in their earnestness. He wouldn’t last long.

Wet slaps and gritted moans scored Victor’s inartful final thrusts--tight muscle clamped down on him hard when his tempo started to falter and he came inside with only a defeated gasp and tightening grip as warning.

He opened his eyes and was about to apologize when he saw Yuuri’s face was nothing but delighted.   

“Was it okay?” Yuuri asked him, panting and still painfully erect. Victor sat up and carefully pulled himself free, feeling drained from orgasm but resolved to take care of Yuuri in return. He moved to settle Yuuri beneath him, carefully lifting the boy’s legs to give him better access. Seeing him on display so aroused, cum dripping out of his twitching hole made him ache for a time in his youth when he might have been able to fuck him again immediately.

“Where did you come from?”

Not wanting to leave him waiting, Victor took Yuuri’s aching cock and lovingly stroked it with all five of his fingers--a moan of relief escaping the boy’s throat. Remembering the original intention of their encounter, he brought his glowing index finger on his left hand back. He pushed his fingers inside easily, the mixture of lube and semen making for an effortless slide.

Staring shamelessly at his flushed, desperate face, Victor worked him hard from both sides until the man before him lost all semblance composure.

Just as Yuuri was about to open his mouth to cry out, an unexpected flash stole the wind of his voice. With every thrust he saw white, his body pulsed with warmth--Victor felt it too, feeling close to fainting from the heat and overstimulation.

Out of the corner of his eye Victor could see the city skyline from their window, buildings in the distance--their lights all dimmed in unison suddenly when Yuuri came hard with a flash.

Victor could see the light peeking through the space in between his fingers, still positioned deep inside Yuuri’s hole.

The fluids on his digits glistened--it was a mess, but it was beautiful.

“It worked,” Yuuri huffed, exhausted--his whole body flushed red and covered in sweat.

Their eyes met and neither could help but smile.

“I’m going to wash up, and then I’m going to kiss you.” Victor pulled himself away and flitted to the bathroom.

Yuuri slowly sat himself up, dazed and in disbelief. He often felt like crying, but he’d never felt like crying from being happy before.

Victor returned quickly and handed Yuuri a damp cloth to wipe himself off with.

“Can you stay tonight?” Victor spoke gently, without pressure. “I’m sure you coach is about to call in a search party,” he followed up his own question with disappointment.

Yuuri took a moment to find his phone, seeing more than twenty missed call notifications and a flurry of texts.

“I want to, but…” Yuuri hesitated. “We shouldn’t tell anyone yet. Because it’s you, there would be a lot of attention--more than usual. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

Victor shuffled over next to Yuuri on the bed and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“You’re right. We should be quiet about it until we have a plan.” Victor leaned his head in closer, and Yuuri fought with all he had to hold back those happy tears. ”You’ll fly out tomorrow, but before that I’m going to put my number in your phone. Maybe you can tell your coach you went out drinking and lost track of time… that’s what I’ll tell mine. You’ll have to message me everyday, of course--I’ll want pictures, too.”

“Alright,” Yuuri kept his words short so he could keep his emotions under control.

“But most importantly before you go, Yuuri, I need to kiss you.”

No time was wasted before Victor took his lips. It was gentle and tame, a sweet yet sensual exchange. A perfect fairytale first kiss to end an unrefined, unconventional, electric evening.

Their time apart would be hard to bear, but Yuuri knew after their night together, having proven it all to be true, he would always carry a part of Victor with him. He could feel it growing inside him.


End file.
